


flavour in his mouth

by strawberricream



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Creampie, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, F/M, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Rave, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27056011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberricream/pseuds/strawberricream
Summary: it’s hajime’s first rave in cali
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 88





	flavour in his mouth

**Author's Note:**

> it’s time to get raving. takes place in irvine, california when hajime’s in university. based off my personal exp with asian canadian/american culture. 
> 
> tysm to @tsumucore for helping me with the plot line 💖 and @kunimwuah for the encouragement, advice and beta-reading 💞 (both on tumblr)

“hajime, you made it! aren’t you a bit early?”

hajime looks up, seeing a small group of people trailing behind jason, a kinesiology major he met in an advanced human anatomy class. he had gotten along fairly well with him so hajime thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea to go hang out with him and his friends. 

he was starting to reconsider that decision. he'd never been to a rave, or anything of this size or caliber. karaoke with his high school volleyball team was a far cry from an annual rave attended by celebrity djs.

no, he tells himself, it’s a good thing to be getting out and experiencing new things. he looks at jason, a small smile on his face. “hey. i got about here five minutes ago.” 

jason smiles back and introduces hajime to the other friends he brought along. they all seem nice, but what surprises him the most is everyone’s lack of clothing, a far cry from the conservative nature of people back home. hajime starts to think he’s overdressed with his plain black tee and track pants. 

“hajime!” 

he turns to the right, seeing you jog towards him. the two of you smile when you make eye contact and he feels his shoulders relax as you lace your fingers together. “sorry, am i late?” 

“nah,” vincent, a biomedical physiology major, says. “doors aren’t opened yet.”

you nod, refocusing on hajime. “hey.”

he smiles, squeezing your hand. “hey.”

“you okay?”

he rubs the back of his neck. “yeah.”

you gently rub his forearm and he remembers why he came out here in the first place: to experience this with you. if anything turned sour, that’d be fine—he’d probably still have the time of his life with you anyways. 

hajime smiles bashfully and you’re about to kiss him, but someone calls out your name.

kevin, a business major you’re taking the same educational psychology elective with, stands with his hands in his pockets. “hey, did you finish the lab assignment that’s due sunday? emily and i don’t get the fourth and sixth question.”

“ah no, not yet,” you lie. “i’ve been busy with a group project for another class, so i haven’t gotten to it yet.”

“ah, shit. well, let me know when you get to it.” 

you nod and watch as kevin gets pulled away by some girls. 

“i thought you finished everything on wednesday,” hajime mumbles. 

“i did,” you confess, making sure kevin was out of earshot. “but kevin thinks that by giving me the pdf and a test bank for a class we took a year ago means he can suddenly ask me for answers for everything.” 

“he gave you a test bank?”

you shrug. “yeah, but it was useless. that class was graded almost entirely on group work.” 

“was it the molecular biology one?”

“yes,” you pout. “the one you told me was a gpa booster. lies.” you punch him lightly and he laughs, leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

“it was,” he rumbles. 

“no, it wasn’t! i only skated by with an a- because of you.”

he lets the remainder of his laugh dissipate into your hair as he holds you close. 

“oh my gosh!” someone squeals your name. “where’d you get your skirt?” 

you turn around. stephanie, you think. you’re not sure, but you think _this_ stephanie is the one you met in that world literature elective. you return her bright smile. “oh, i got it online!” 

stephanie and her friends grill you for the details and hammer you with endless compliments as you do your best to match their energy. 

“is this your boyfriend? he’s cute!” she beams, glittery makeup shimmering as she and her friends wave at him. 

“yeah, this is hajime.”

he waves back awkwardly. suddenly, the line starts moving. 

“finally,” stephanie groans. “well, we gotta get back! catch you two later!” she waves goodbye, moving to mingle her friends with jason’s. 

you stick to hajime as the crowd moves, slowly inching forward. he looks down, taking a good look at your skirt. it’s high waisted, ending just above mid-thigh and matches cutely with your low-cut lace top. he eyes the pretty, tantalizing swell of your breasts, unconsciously licking his lips. 

“what are you looking at?” you teasingly ask. 

he turns his head away, a small pout on his lips as his cheek redden. “nothin’.”

you giggle and wrap an arm around his waist as he does the same with yours, the two of you slowly making your way through the doors and past security. 

“shit,” hajime mumbles. “s'hot.” 

“fuckin’ tell me about it,” jason mutters, taking his shirt off. 

“let’s walk in more,” emily says. “we’re too close to the doors.” 

“who’s the first dj?” kevin asks, readjusting his cap.

“who’s here for the first dj?” vincent scoffs. “let’s just get drunk.” 

that’s rude, hajime thinks. but he doesn’t say anything and follows the group to get alcohol. the two of you are handed cups of beer. kevin is dared to chug his in one go. 

the two of you stay near the edges of the crowd as the floor fills up with other attendants, staying at the fringe of the other you came in with. 

“it’s so hot,” he groans. 

“you can take off your shirt,” you say, playing innocent.

he smirks at you, lacing your fingers together. “yeah?”

you nod, turning around a little. “i’ve got my backpack.” the charms on your bag jingle, catching hajime’s eye. 

“you have them here too?”

you cup the sanrio character charms in your hands, smiling fondly at them. the two of you had gone to sanrio puroland when you went to japan together last summer and picked out matching charms for each other. badtz maru slowly became your favourite with its unlikely resemblance to hajime. you kept each other’s lookalikes on your lanyards, but you couldn’t help yourself and bought extras for some other accessories. 

“of course!” you laugh and hajime thinks it sounds like glittering sugarplums. “i love seeing them together.”

he blushes, chest thumping in his rib cage as he soaks in your ardent affection. he kisses your cheek before letting your hand go to take off his shirt. you do your best to keep your eyes off his musculature as you take his shirt and fold it to put into your backpack. 

he bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing at your pretty, darting eyes. 

“here!” you give him your water bottle, hoping it helps him cool down and trying not to stare as his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. it really is hot in here. 

you swallow. it’s almost ridiculous—that a man that looks like he does exists in this world. your eyes zone in on the v line on his hips, slowly making their way up across his defined abs, pecs and eventually, shoulders. you blush and hope that he doesn’t notice how flustered you’ve become. 

he does. he looks at you just as much. 

the bass of the music gets louder. the crowd screams. 

“do you wanna walk closer to the dj, hajime?”

“sure,” he mutters, holding onto your hand and following you. 

he doesn’t know where everyone else is, where they went and he has a half a mind to be pissed at the way they ditched the two of you but hell, he doesn’t really care. all he sees is you in your cute little fit, pulling him through crowds of people as you try to find a spot for yourselves. the charms dangling on your backpack knock into each other. they look like they’re holding hands. 

you settle for a place relatively nearby the dj, but also not that far away from the edge in case hajime wants to leave for a breather. you giggle, alcohol bubbling in you as you turn around to wrap your arms around him. the heavy, imploding beat makes it hard to focus on anything. his hands come up to stabilize you at your waist and hips. you look pretty, makeup all shimmery in the dim, strobing lights. the light sheen of sweat on your chest has him swallowing thickly as he looks at your breasts again. 

you catch him looking and smirk. 

“hajime,” you lilt, giggling. he hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off your chest and thighs all night, so you might as well give him what he wants. bringing a hand up, you pull the low neckline of your lace up down, exposing your breasts for him. his eyes immediately zone in on them and he’s about to say something when he hears a whistle from behind him.

“nice tits, babe!” 

all you see is a flash of platinum hair and a wink as he turns around to snarl at him, tugging you close to his chest. the guy sticks his tongue out and leaves with a snicker. hajime doesn’t chase him, instead he picks you up by the ass and makes his way out of the crowd with you. you can see other girls make googly-eyes at his back and whisper as he pushes his way through. 

too bad. he’s yours. 

possessiveness fosters a snake in your chest as you slip your arms around his broad shoulders, pushing your chest into his. feeling your tits push against his pecs, his nails dig into your ass. he carries you off to a relatively unpopulated area near the bars and drops you down in a corner, his larger build covering you.

“hajime?”

your eyes are wide, a little shy as you grab onto his hands and look up at him through your lashes. his nostrils flare at how submissive and innocently charming you look, clinging onto him. your breasts are still out so he takes the chance to grope them, pinching your nipples, making your thighs clench together. closing your eyes, you let him do as he pleases. 

taking off your mini backpack, he throws it between your legs into the corner of the wall. stepping closer to you, he brings a hand up to cup your face, thumbing your cheek. his beautiful deep green eyes swim with concern. 

“are you okay?”

you nod, holding onto the hand on your cheek and resting your other one on his bicep. 

“thank you for stepping in,” you murmur, kissing him softly.

he hums, deepening the kiss as he wraps an arm around you. he smells good, always does—like the warm sun with a hint of cedar and the remnants of a sandy beach. you trail your hands down his torso, fingertips caressing his abdomen and feeling them twitch under the skin. his hands move to cup your ass as he pulls back.

“do you—?”

you nod, voice light and almost airy. “want you so bad, hajime.” 

he swears, slipping his hands up your thighs to grope at your ass cheeks. he isn’t mad, no; he more so just wants to reconfirm the fact that you're his. he knows you’d never do him like that, trusts you to the moon and back. he just doesn’t trust those scummy bastards. 

you step out of your panties for him as he watches you, pocketing your pretty lace panties and flipping your skirt up, eyeing your pussy. 

“spread open your legs, angel,” he rumbles. 

you blush, but does what he asks of you, holding your skirt up for him. he licks at his fingers before he trails them along your lower lips, teasing your hole.

“you’re drenched.” 

your breath hitches as you catch the dark glint in his sharp eyes. he bends down, tongue laving over your cunt. he has your knees buckling when he pushes one of his thick fingers in, slowly gauging your reactions as he thumbs your clit.

“hajime,” you moan, legs trembling. you can feel your arousal drip into his hands. he sucks hickeys into your thigh, adding another finger as he continues to press delicious circles into your clit. 

“feel good, baby?” he stands back up to cage you against the wall, watching your face contort beautifully. 

you nod, biting your lip as he pushes a third finger in. the stretch burns; his fingers so much thicker than yours but you know it’s all for a good cause. he brushes your hair away from your face as he pulls you in for a soft, firm kiss. 

it’s encapsulating and you can’t get enough. your hands trail over his chest, gliding down, down, down to fiddle with the band of his track pants. all you have on your mind is more, more, more. he pulls them down, letting his throbbing cock hit his lower abdomen. pulling his fingers out of you, he smears your slick on him before thumbing the bead of precum at his slit. he brings it up to your mouth and pushes at your soft lips. looking him in the eye, you suckle on his thumb obediently.

“fuck,” he swears. your mouth is sin, but he leaves that for another day. he puts your arms around his neck, picking you up and resting his cock on your pelvis. 

your mouth waters seeing how red and angry it looks. he grins wolfishly, nosing into your cheek. 

“didn’t know you wanted to get fucked in public, baby.”

you whine, whispering against his lips, “i need you so bad, hajime. please.” 

“fuck,” he growls. “my little cockhungry slut.”

he lifts you up a tad and pushes the head of his cock in. he rolls his hips slowly, sliding in smoothly with how wet you are and well he prepped you. you moan, walls fluttering around him as the ridges of his cock rub against your sensitive spots. 

“sh-shit.” he leans his forehead down to yours, breathing heavily as he waits for you to adjust to his size. your pussy throbs and he can feel your heartbeat through your walls. 

as his cock sits against the back of your pussy, he half-thinks it’s meant to be there. you keen, trying to fuck yourself on his cock once you’re accustomed to his size. he fills you good and deep, your thoughts turning to mush. tears of glorious pleasure blur your vision as your eyes glass over. 

“ha-hajime,” you gasp, feeling him slowly thrust back into you with long, teasingly slow movements. 

his lower stomach burns with how good you feel around him, the fire moving into his chest as he white-knuckles your thighs and ass. he pulls almost all the way out before filling you back up, creating a steady thrum of sensation that electrifies your spine. 

you moan breathily with each push in and rest your head on the wall, digging your nails into his shoulders. the cresting pleasure bows your back as you toss your head, baring your neck. he increases his pace suddenly and hits your sweet spot perfectly on the third thrust. your body seizes up immediately, trembling in his arms with your sudden orgasm. you sob, cunt throbbing erratically and he almost growls with how tight you get, desperately milking him. 

“god—fuck, can’t get enough of my cock, can you?”

you whine at the increase in pace when you’re still sensitive and barely just over the crest of your orgasm. you have half a mind to remember that you’re still out in plain sight, but when he fucks you so perfectly and his fat cock slides against your walls so deliciously, it’s hard to be embarrassed. 

heat floods your senses and dulls your thoughts, constricting your awareness to a single point between your legs. 

it’s so _good_.

sweat blossoms on his brow at the increased rhythm. your silk walls bringing warmth and ecstasy sugared with sweet affection. he pounds into you as hard as he knows you can take, rasping into your ear.

“who's fucking you this good, angel? who owns this greedy fucking cunt?” 

you’re jelly at this point—stuffed so full and stretched so wide on his cock that you can’t think coherently. all you offer him is a soft, “l-love you!” 

heat fills his cheeks at your ardent whisper. the unfocused, melty look on your face as you cling to him has his cock throbbing. he swears, “you’re gonna be the death of me, babygirl.”

you don’t have time to say anything in return as you’re thrust into your next orgasm. it rips through you as you arch your back and sob. your cunt tightens around him like a vice as you squirt over his cock, whimpering his name. your fluids gush out on his shaft, dripping onto the floor. 

hajime groans, continuing to jackhammer into you before his hips stutter, flooding your pussy with cum. you’re pudding now, absolutely boneless with the euphoria. he rests his forehead in your neck, panting heavily. “how d’you feel, angel?” he asks, voice still husky. 

“good,” you sniffle, giving him a soft peck on his sweaty hairline. “love you, haji.” 

he hums, kissing you on your lips, cheek and temple. “love you, baby.” 

you smile and he starts to detach himself from you. you whimper softly when he pulls out, feeling your fluids drip to the floor below you. he rubs your arm in comfort, helping you put on your panties and readjusting your clothes. swinging your backpack over his shoulder, he leaves to find a bathroom. as the heady lust leaves, he makes sure to keep you close and shield you from other ravers.

if he focuses hard enough, he can make out the whispers and comments about how hot you sounded; how they wished someone would fuck them the way he did; how good looking the two of you are; how they wanted to join in.

he tunes them out, focusing on getting you to the nearest source of running water. 

the bathrooms all have lines. he clicks his tongue and tries to find the bathrooms on the other side of the building, checking up on you from time to time. 

you pat at his chest and point to an area covered by tall black curtains. 

“is that the backstage area?” 

“probably,” you shrug. 

he knows it’s a bad idea—you could get kicked out or even cuffed, but decides to go for it anyways, finding a hallway of rooms with the names of some djs taped onto the doors. he pulls the two of you into one without one and locks the door behind him.

the room is decently furnished, plain, but there’s refreshments on the table and some club merchandise and hajime starts to question the shitty security of the place.

he shakes his head, throwing your backpack on a chair and props you up on one of the dressing tables. he wets napkins using bottled water found in the room to help with the clean up. 

you snicker. 

he throws the used napkin to prep another one. “what?”

“i can’t believe how easy it is to get backstage,” you giggle. he laughs, letting you know he just thought the same, making you beam at him. 

as his hands trail to the inside of your thigh, you’re forced to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning.

“does it hurt?” 

making eye contact, his face is contorted with worry. you shake your head, blushing. “n-no,” you swallow. “feels good.” 

he grins, cocky and handsome, stroking your thighs. “yeah, angel?” 

you nod. “can we go again, haji?”

he swears, feeling himself grow in his pants again. 

the party isn’t over yet.

“yeah,” he says, thickly. “gonna fuck this sweet cunt again.” 

he slaps your pussy, thumbing your clit as you jolt. he helps you take off your top and leaves a kiss between your tits, grinning at the cute giggle you let out. giving you a sweet kiss, he maneuvers you onto your stomach, groping your cheeks. 

“fuck,” he says, voice throaty, eyes glued to your pretty taint as he spreads your cheeks. he rips your panties off, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. 

“hajim—!” your whine trails off into a breathy whimper when he ruts himself against your folds. he hikes a leg up for more access, playing with your clit just the right way, revving you up so quickly your cunt starts dripping, desperate to be filled full and good.

“oh, daddy!”

he growls at the nickname, his cock throbbing against his toned stomach as he fists himself before lining up at your entrance. he bottoms out in a single thrust, starting a brutal pace from the get-go. 

“d-daddy, s'good!” you’re drooling with the way his cock kisses your cervix on every thrust. the delicious slide of the veins and ridges of his cock sends lightning running through your every nerve.

his head spins with arousal. licking his lips, he continues to grope and fondle you. he smacks your ass, thrusts never letting up as you yelp at the sharp sting, cunt clenching around him in response. 

“like that, huh? my perfect little whore,” he snarls, spanking you again. 

“yes, yes! daddy!” you sob. it’s perfect, so perfect—the way he’s manhandling you, how his heavy balls slap against your clit, his groans and grunts music to your ears.

he pinches your clit harshly as you sob. “this hungry little cunt can’t get enough of daddy’s cock, can it?”

“l-love—,” you hiccup. “love daddy’s fat cock s-so much!”

his ears burn with your pretty moans and whorish cries as he pistons into you. spreading your cheeks, he spits onto your pretty little pucker, smearing it with his fingers. your face burns with embarrassment, voice keening into a high pitch as he pushes his thumb in. 

“daddy!” you squeal.“’m gonna cum!”

he leans down, biting on your ear as he batters your sweet spot. 

“good,” he snarls. 

and with that, you’re undone; the divinely sinful baritone of his voice undoing the knot in your stomach. he swears as your cunt clenches around him and you know his hand prints are gonna show up on your skin tomorrow. he continues to pistons his cock in and out of your squirting pussy. with a final snap of his hips, he empties himself inside you. 

heaving, he leans down over your body, kissing your shoulder as he catches his breath. you find comfort in his warmth as your head clears. 

“hey! jackson!” 

a cold sweat washes over the two of you. 

heavy knocks on the door. pounding. 

“are ya fucking another groupie again?”

you hear another person laugh. you look at hajime. he looks at you. 

“who’s jackson?!” he whispers.

“um! uh, some skinny guitar player from some band?” at least, that’s what you think. though thinking isn’t easy when you’ve just been fucked from an inch of your life.

“hey!” 

“we’re not gonna leave ‘til you answer!” 

the pounding on the wood continues.

you look at him frantically. “hajime!” 

angling his head back, he takes a deep breath and tries to insert himself into a picture of a skinny californian band member named jackson. thinking back to all the things his new friends here have said and doing his best to swallow down any reservations he has about his accent, he belts at them. 

“fuck off, man! you’re scaring the bitch!”

your jaw drops. 

it goes silent for a moment.

hajime buries his head into your shoulder in shame and embarrassment. 

loud laughter rings through the door. 

“aight, fuck—we’re up in fifteen! don’t be late!”

the two at the door pass and you can faintly make out a comment of “dude, he sounds zooted,” as the footsteps fade away.

the two of you lie there for a moment, letting the adrenaline pass. 

you turn your head back. “you called me a bitch?!” you whisper-yell.

“isn’t that what a skinny guy in a band would say!” he whisper-yells back. “fuck was i supposed to do?”

you snort, covering your mouth with your hands. “i still can’t believe you said that,” you say between peals of laughter. “oh my god, i wish i recorded it.” 

he pouts, brows furrowing as his cheeks redden. “shut up.”

you can’t stop laughing. “oh my god, hajime, i’m a groupie. and you’re—you’re like harry styles or something.” 

“oi.”

“okay, okay.” you pause. “how about a really buff harry styles?” 

he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. you laugh along with him as the hilarity of the situation makes you giddy. you kiss and exchange soft whispers of adoration before the two of you clean up and head out the door. you manage to sneak back into the dance area, hand in hand, without anyone catching you.

if anyone asks, all you offer them is the exhilarating love story between a buff harry styles lookalike guitar player named jackson and his groupie bitch.

**Author's Note:**

> hey, where will you be waking up tomorrow morning?  
> hey, out the back door, goddamn, but i love her anyway  
> i love her anyway, i love her anyway  
> out the back door, goddamn, but i love her anyway
> 
> — panic! at the disco, miss jackson 🎵
> 
> (lol)


End file.
